On Hope and Despair
It was a peculiar week indeed. Imprisoned on a teeter totter, I found myself flying up and diving down, distraught and ecstatic, down and up, up and down, somewhere between hope and despair.
It’s not an easy task translating my posts into English. There are many words which just don’t have an English equivalent and it’s so much more than the lack of a suitable word. Often there is a lack of parallel cultural experience. Take the common expression “hit and run” for example: a driver fleeing the scene of an accident without tending to the injured or reporting to the police. The picture our mind congers up is of a scared individual fleeing the site of an accident: an accident called as such because it happened by accident. Here in Israel we have an equivalent expression “pga v’brach” which has the exact literal translation. Since the late 1980’s, however, we have coined another expression “pigua drissa”. This is used to identify terror attacks caused by lone attackers and their vehicles. Sadly these “hit and ram-over” attacks have become all too familiar in our hot political climate.
I awoke to yet another report of a “hit and ram-over” terror attack. For a change it wasn’t Israel in the news or even the Middle East for that matter. I cannot say that it hurt any less. Terror is terror is terror.
Pain.
Je suis Nice.
Eighty four stories were cut short in their tracks. We shall never know the ending to their love stories, children and grandchildren will remain forever nameless.
As I charted and fumbled my blog post’s way, I heard new reports of an attacker opening fire elsewhere, this time at a shopping center in Germany.
The world has gone mad.
Rumor has it that the Turkish coup attempt was staged by President Erdoğan, in an attempt to further his own interests. Donald Trump rocking to the tune of “We Are the Champions” made his flamboyant entrance into the Republican National Convention. To the utter dismay of many he was quickly crowned the presidential nominee. The key notes of the “Trumpant” nominee were a haunting melody of darkness, hate, fear and cries of war.
Disturbed – The Sound Of Silence [Official Music Video]
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Different Strokes
Against a tapestry of gloom I was delighted to find myself immersed in another conversation. A shimmering ray of hope shadowed my path.
Saturday morn and once again I found myself biking and frolicking in the waters of the Tippori Stream. It was the same familiar tune but this time the lyrics echoed in a foreign accent. No longer the lone lady, I was surrounded by the lovely laughter of the “beautiful sex”. Arab and Jewish women joined together in a “Ride and Reach” playshop, sharing an early morning full of Adventure, Bikes, Connection, Dance, Eats and Fun. It was inspirational to create a mutual language of connection which felt so natural and easy. Most of the women did not know each other beforehand. Open hearts painted a new day, a brilliant promise of a wonderful world within our grasp.
This was a joint venture product of serendipity, my resolve and my partner Eman’s beautiful vision. She has built a picturesque center, home to a petting zoo, vegetable garden, bikes and a beautiful setting inside and out for meetups. She has diligently collected waif wheels, bike by bike and leads bike outings for Arab woman a couple of times a month. Most of these women have not been on a bicycle since they were children.
Our chance encounter thrilled me. While it has become more and more common to pass groups of Arab male mountain bikers, I have yet to pass even a lone female biker. This made our meeting all the more magical. I saw this as a perfect opportunity to connect Arab and Jewish women, fertile ground for change and my personal agenda, Naked Nutrition ‘n’ Nia.
Right from the start at our first one on one meetup, Eman expressed abundant interest in my book, 16 Wayz to Navigate Your Health. She mused over the fact that there were not enough books like these in the Arab language. Riding the waves of joy following our playshop, I made a vow to myself that I simply must translate my book into Arabic.
I began looking for a translator in earnest. When a friend, active in the Women Wage Peace movement, was unable to hook me up with a translator, I sidestepped and began to immerse myself in her movement as well as another, “Marching Together to a Shared Future”. I was exposed to a wide range of activities; privileged to participate in a number of meetings and find myself becoming part of the shared vision. Believe it or not but now Thursday evenings are Debka Dance night. I am having lots of fun but am still struggling with the left lead or confusing double left steps which form the basis of the Debka steps.
I was honored to find myself side by side next to Yonish and Salach the cofounders of Marching Together. I was awed by their omnipresence. It seemed that every meeting or event that I participated in they were there and always en route to yet another and another.
The world thirsts for such passionate endeavors.
How Do You Say …?
I still had not found a translator. From my experience translations from Hebrew to Arabic are routine. It is more challenging, however, to find a translator who will translate directly from English. For lack of a better idea, I did what any modern entrepreneur would do: I queried my social media friends. I was directed to “Fiver” and found myself in Israel closing a “gig” with an Egyptian journalist. I figured that for a $15 fee I had nothing to lose.
Just as I had closed the deal on Fiver, I received a message from Ahmad:
He had my undivided attention. I had absolutely no idea how he found me but I was intrigued. I asked him to tell me about himself and we began a rapid exchange of emails. Ahmad is nothing short than a Syrian refuge living in Turkey. His dream of becoming a writer was cut short because of the war and today he is building a translation business. There was warm chemistry between us and I felt that I had to give him the opportunity to do the job. I would not let this opportunity fall out of my grasp.
A few days went by and I found myself with two translations, one from Egypt and one from Turkey and zero ability to determine the quality of the two. Of course I checked with Google Translate so that I could ascertain that I was not being fed ISIS propaganda…
Last week my adventures took me through uncharted territories as I met up with an Egyptian journalist, a Syrian refuge and a group of Israeli Arab woman. This is my window to another world, a world where the sounds of silence deafen the sounds of hostilities and where the sounds of the sane and silent majority are heard.
Read more about our joint biking adventures here.
If you have not yet read about the rocky part of my journey, you can read it here.
I would like to thank you for your patience in reading this post to its end.
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You Tell Your Future – The Power is Ours!
Imagine you had a looking glass where for a very short window of time you could observe, live the final moment, day, year or years of your life. The picture that you see is clear. Startled, you clearly do not like what you see. A wave of sadness and fright paralyzes you.
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